“Mm,” she mutters against my mouth. “Christian,” she breathes out.
Her skirt flares from the quick movement, teasing me with a glimpse of her black lace panties. My cock pulses as her sweet heat seeps through the fabric of my slacks. The head is already hard and pressing against the special place.
Reaching between us, I fondle her breast through her blouse and pull my lips away from hers only long enough to see her eyes glaze over. Her face is twisted in an array of emotions; arousal, fear, regret—need. And as I lean in and roughly suckle her collarbone, a soft groan escapes her. So soft that I wouldn’t notice it if I wasn’t paying attention.
With a shiver, she tentatively brings her palm to the back of my head. She doesn’t touch. She’s too afraid to, afraid that if she does, she’ll lose herself. And goddammit, I want her to. I want her to let go and let me in—in her mind, in her body, and down to her fucking soul. I want her to taste the ghost of my name on her tongue and feel the phantom sensations of my touch. I want to break her and bring her over to the dark side where love is painful and sex is immobilizing.
“I—we shouldn’t,” she huffs with her eyelids squeezed tight.
I ignore her and force her crop top up around her neck. Braless.
“Fuck,” I groan, my mouth agape as I struggle to control my breathing.
She knew what she was doing walking out of the house like this, her tight little buds easily on display. All it would take is a quick brush or flick, and her pretty pink nipples would bead. Just like they are now, swollen and begging to be sucked.
I wet my lips, and I don’t miss the way her eyes trace the path of my tongue. Siân arches her back, a direct contradiction to the words she miserably failed to get out. Her mouth is telling me no, that we can’t do this, but her body—her body wants it, craves it.
“Please. Christian. Mm,” she stumbles and grinds against my erection when I take her tight little bud into my mouth, releasing it with a loud plop.
“Doesn’t sound like you really want me to stop, beautiful,” I breathe, my fake accent nearly faltering, but I catch myself. I flick the tip of my tongue over her right breast, then the left, and then I squeeze and pinch.
“I-I can’t have sex with you,” she professes around a moan. “I’m still with Taj.”
A wave of anger takes over me, and before I know what I’m doing, my hand is around her throat, my fingers digging into her pressure points. “Don’t you dare say his fucking name,” I grit out.
Siân’s eyes grow wide, and I quickly realize that I let my emotions get away from me. Immediately, I soften my touch, going from aggressive and angry to firm and gentle. Her skin, so delicate and tender, is already bruised and marked with the evidence of my rage, as short-lived as it was. The sight of my mark on her flesh sends a painful ache to my shaft. Siân relaxes, but uncertainty is still etched in her features.
Siân breathes deeply while making eye contact with me, her head falling back when I massage her neck and chest. Her body writhes in my lap, hesitation and need ripping through her. One moment she’s into this. She wants to enjoy it, but the good girl in her, the cautious side of her, is telling her to stop me.
“Chris—”
I silence her with a kiss. “I don’t give a fuck about him. Right now, I just want to make your pussy feel good.”
“I can’t have sex with you.”
“Who said anything about me fucking you?” I twirl her nipple between my thumb and index finger.
With her eyes hooded and mouth agape, she asks, “You’re—?”
“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. But today, I just want to see you come.”
She swallows.
“You want it too, don’t you? You want me to make this tight little pussy purr. I bet you’ve even dreamed about it.” I trail my fingers past her navel, over the bunched-up fabric of her skirt, until I find her hardened clit. A shudder runs through her when I press my thumb against it. “Don’t you? You picture me when you’re fucking him?”
Her hips raise a bit, the meaty flesh of her ass running over my dick. The barrier between us pisses me off.
“Don’t tense up on me now. I’m not going to fuck you today, but I am going to play with your cunt. And when you’re on the brink of climax, I want you to remember this moment. Remember the risk. And then I want you to leave him.”
I slip her panties to the side, my calloused finger finally touching her naked clit. She gasps, and we both stare down at her pulsing sex. So wet and swollen. So hungry and needy. It takes all the strength I have not to toss her into the driver’s seat and bury my face between her thighs and feast on her. To lick and suck and blow on her angry red bundle of nerves until she’s bucking and spewing profanities at the top of her fucking lungs.